Sweets? No, thank you
by taiyari
Summary: Kozmotis Pitchiner has never liked sweets, much less cakes. When his daughter asks him for a birthday party, the first one she's ever had, he is compelled to agree feeling guilty for not spending much time with her due to his job. This has to be a great party, so she begs him to hire the catering at the most renowned bakery in the city: the one owned and ran by Sanderson Mansnoozie
1. Prologue

Fill for a prompt at the Dreamwidth ROTG kink meme.

Mysteria388 was kind enough to proofread this and fix it. THANK YOU! He is the nicest person ever and I've learned a lot thanks to him :)

So from now on, he's helping me with this fic (and I'm most thankful for that!).

Hope you don't find any more of my foolish mistakes from now on. That being said please continue and thanks for reading!

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Sweets and pastries are for the weak.

Or at least that's what Kozmotis Pitchiner always said to his daughter, little Seraphine, since the day he found out that she had a giant sweet tooth.

But his words had little to no effect on her. So there he stood in line, waiting to enter the little bakery shop. Why was this place so crowded? He felt a tug at one of his coat sleeves.

"Dad! Dad! Look!", His daughter pressed her nose against the shop window. "I want that one, over there! The one with the little bunny and all that snow-like icing!"

Kozmotis took a peek through the glass. The cake his daughter was asking for stood on the top shelf of one of the display cabinets. He could see that it was decorated with the skill of an artist and was the biggest one of the lot. It had a bunny, white as snow, looking up at a full moon in a sky full of silvery sugar-beaded stars.

He snorted.

"Tell me why, darling, are you so anxious for something as ordinary as... _cake_?" He almost spat the word out. He really wasn't fond of sweets, much less cakes. But he had been unable to say a simple _no_ to his beloved daughter. The girl had pleaded for a birthday party for so long, that he just had to agree to one.

And so there he was waiting in that damned line to not only buy a cake, but the complete pastry and snack service the little bakery had to offer.

"It's not just any cake!", she replied while tugging him into the shop as the line continued to move. "We ate cake from here at Katherine's last birthday party and it was delicious! Katherine and Nightlight both say this place makes the best cakes in the entire world!"

Kozmotis sighed. "So here I am, dropping my entire schedule for one."

Seraphine pouted and crossed her arms. "You said I could have a birthday party with cake, friends and everything. And you almost never drop your work for me..."

Feeling a pang of guilt in his heart, he took the little child in his arms and lifted her off the ground to give her a kiss on the forehead.

"I'm sorry, darling. You know I can't just drop work like that." He noticed that one of the employees was available. "Now let's go buy those  
cake and pastries for your party, alright?"

The bright smile on his daughter's face lit up his mood.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!", She put her arms around his neck and  
hugged him hard. "I'm sure you will like THIS cake!"

He tried hard not to roll his eyes and instead hugged her harder.

"Just this once, for you, my flower."


	2. And everything seemed normal

Owning your own little publishing house could be as hard as it gets.

He had spent the last nine years dedicated to making it work and prosper the best he could. He had started as an assistant editor with  
another company (bigger than his own) and those couple of years made him decide to risk it all and start a publishing house of his own.

Two years into the business his wife passed away in a car accident.

She left him alone not only with the new wavering company, but with their three year-old little girl as well.

To say it was devastating would be an understatement.

Since then, he turned into a workaholic trying to make the little publishing house rise so he could give his daughter the life he wanted  
her to have. Finally, his dedication and hard work began to pay off.

He could have bought another bigger house with more luxuries but that would have required him to sell their old house, the one with all  
their memories in it. Even if Seraphine didn't remember much about her mother, he still felt the house was a living reminder of his wife.

So they stayed in their little house (with just three rooms and a little garden in the back) and there they lived: just he, little Seraphine and their old cat, Meme.

Their home, usually quiet and calm for he spent a lot of time at work, was now filled with activity.

Children with balloons ran wild through the house. Some of them tried to sneak into the kitchen. Parents chatted cheerfully in the garden.  
A couple of waiters entered and exited the kitchen while Meme, the cat, ran from one place to another every two or three minutes to hide.

Even if the house was filled with noise and bustle, Kozmotis was happy to see his daughter so animated for this was her first birthday party  
and the first time she had ever invited friends to their home. Normally she was the one visiting them since he was almost always too busy with his company.

When he once again entered the kitchen, with a tray full of empty glasses in his hands, he took a moment to observe the... _chaos_. Where did all these people come from? He had invited very few of his employees and those he had he did so because they had children (which  
added to the commotion). Just a couple of them (the ones that had stayed at the publishing house the longest) were invited because he  
referred to them as his friends.

He left the tray on one of the tables in the kitchen. One of his friends, a woman about his age with long copper hair and a calm face, approached him with a jar of fruit flavored water and began to refill the glasses.

"What a nice party, Kozmotis!", she grinned. "And here all of us at the office were saying you couldn't put the word 'fun' in anything other than a book."

"Ha, ha. How very _funny_." He commented in a monotone voice. However, he returned the smile before glancing at the clock. "Has the  
catering arrived yet?"

"Um, no it hasn't." Florence, a woman he had known since the start of his career, finished filling the glasses and took one of the bowls of  
chips that was waiting to be taken out to the garden. "Which bakery did you hire to cater this?"

He sighed a little. "I...can't remember too well. It was my daughter that chose it and made a lot of fuss about it."

Florence arched an eyebrow. She was about to say something when Seraphine ran into the kitchen with an enormous gift in her arms.

"Katherine and Nightlight are here! Come! Come! You have to meet their dad!", she raised the gift up as high as she could to show  
Kozmotis.

He looked intently at it and smiled down at her. "Is that from them? It looks promising." He took the gift and put it above the fridge for  
the meantime. Then he smiled over at Florence before tilting his head towards the door. He took his daughter's little hand in his and exited the room.

"Aren't your friends adopted?", he asked her in a whisper.

She pulled him to bend down slightly and cupped her hand to her mouth to whisper back. "Yes, but he is their dad nonetheless!"

He opened his mouth in a silent and exaggerated "OHH!" She just pulled harder, making him smile again.

Her friends were waiting for them in the living room. Both the girl and the boy he knew already. They were Seraphine's best friends and  
he had met them a couple of times before. The girl was the same height as his daughter, but had bright chestnut-colored hair that came  
down to her shoulders. She was wearing a yellow dress with a blue belt at the waist. Although he didn't know her well, he was fond of  
her for being so nice to Seraphine.

The boy he knew even less and had always appeared to him to be a bit odd. He didn't talk much but instead, seemed to watch everything with a calm wonder. He had pale blond hair and was pretty thin for a boy his age.

The two stood up when they arrived and ran to greet their friend. Kozmotis looked at the two men that had also stood. One looked pretty  
old, but still had a juvenile aura about him. He wore an old, camel corduroy blazer and dark blue jeans. What really got his attention,  
was the long white beard and mustache the man was proudly wearing.

The other fellow made him a little anxious. He looked younger than him and was about the same height. He had a beard and mustache too, just like the old man, but his was black and not as long. He also wore a pair of dark blue jeans along with a black leather jacket pulled over a simple red t-shirt and military-styled boots completed the outfit. A wide proud smile adorned his face.

Kozmotis gulped and gave them the best smile he could muster.

"Ah! You must be Seraphine's father!", the younger one exclaimed cheerfully as he advanced to take the man's hand. He shook it with  
all his strength. "Nicholas St. North at your service! What a pleasure it is to meet you. Congratulations on having such a lovely daughter!" The stranger smiled at the girl. "She truly is a fine lady."

Seraphine gave a wide smile back. Kozmotis felt, for some strange reason, a bit uneasy.

"Kozmotis Pitchiner, and the pleasure is mine." he tried to widen his smile. "Thank you. You are very kind to my little Sera and for that, I am deeply grateful."

"No need!", the man said enthusiastically. His voice was deep and Kozmotis thought his accent sounded foreign. "Let me introduce you to  
our official grandpa, Doctor Ombric Shalazar."

The older man took a step forward and shook his hand smiling.

"I'm not really their grandpa. I'm not old enough for that. A pleasure to be at your home today, Mr. Pitchiner." he told them sounding collected and amused at the same time.

Kozmotis shook his hand in return thinking that the man looked less wild than Mr. St. North. He smiled again at the both of them as he showed them the way to the garden. He excused himself a moment to re-enter the house and search for some more chairs, since there  
weren't any empty ones left.

When he once again returned to the garden with two small benches for his guests (he apologized for not having enough furniture, for he hadn't thought so many people would actually come), he offered them all something to drink.

"I'm sorry that we don't have any food or snacks other than potato chips. The catering we hired hasn't arrived yet." He put two beers upon the table nearby.

"HA! Yes!" exclaimed an, apparently, always cheerful St. North. "Katherine told us you were hiring Sandy for the party! A most excellent choice!"

Kozmotis just stared blankly at him. "Sorry, who?"

Ombric was the first to answer. "Sanderson Mansnoozie, the baker from Star Bakery downtown." He smiled broadly. "Oh he is surely a star  
among us, indeed, what with that magical ability he has with his cakes and famous pastries."

_So that's why that single cake had cost me an arm and a leg_, he thought, but decided against saying the words out loud. "Oh, yes. Sera made it impossible for me to buy a cake from anywhere but there."

"I'm sure she did." St. North smiled proudly taking a sip of his beer.

Kozmotis felt at a loss, and frankly just wanted to run away. Luckily, Florence came in just at the right moment and called for him. He apologized to both men and went off with her. It seemed that the so-called _Star of Baking_ had finally arrived.

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I'm sticking with the book names and also with Young!North. The cat's name is "Meme" because that's how they named Sandy in the latin version.

Again, thanks to Mysteria388 for proofread and fix this.


	3. First impressions

The first thing Kozmotis thought when he saw the little man standing at his door was something akin to _Are you kidding me?_

It was not because it was a bit late (even when _a minute late was being late anyway_) or because he was already getting tired from all the people and movement. Oh, no.

Kozmotis thought first impressions were important. _Essential_.

So when he first laid eyes on the little man (pretty little man) who appeared to have strange golden hair shaped like the pointed ends of a  
star, and a bright yellow jacket under his white apron...good or normal wouldn't describe his first impression.

The little man gave him a wide bright smile and continued on his way to the kitchen, taking with him an enormous box. Two assistants, who were loaded with pastries and other foods, accompanied him.

Kozmotis found he couldn't return the smile. He couldn't even talk. Was he supposed to be happy that this man was just now showing up at  
least 30 minutes late?

He followed him into the kitchen.

"Thank you for being here _at least_." The baker was already opening the box and taking out the cake. Kozmotis hoped he had sounded  
annoyed and sarcastic.

The guy looked at him apologetically but said nothing.

"Hmph." He frowned. "What took you so long, _if I may ask_?"

The man, again, said nothing. He only shrugged, trying to look sorry.

_How rude_. Kozmotis thought and crossed his arms.

He glared at him and opened his mouth to complain, but he noticed how the small man was gesturing frantically and pointing to his mouth.

_I can't speak!_

Oh._OH!_ That sure took him by surprise. "I'm...I'm so sorry. Please accept my apologies." The other shook his head and smiled.

_Don't worry._

Before he could say anything else, one of the assistants began to speak with the baker who immediately responded back using sign  
language. _So he's mute,_ thought Kozmotis in astonishment.

"We are very sorry, Mr. Pitchiner." said the assistant. "We had a little accident back at the bakery and so we are late. Mr. Mansnoozie  
would like you to have this as an apology."

He handed him a yellow card. The bakery logo was printed with white and gold ink on the front of it.

"Hm." What was this? His business card? "Apology accepted, but...this..."

Mansnoozie beamed pointing to the card and then to the cake.

"You can stop by the store any day and get a free gift from us." the employee explained.

"Oh. Thank you." He turned to the little guy, feeling fairly embarrassed. "Thank you, but this isn't necessary."

Mansnoozie just smiled and nodded, to which he had to smile as well.

He was about to say more when Sera and Katherine entered the kitchen laughing. Both children oohed and ahhed in amazement at the sight of the cake.

Katherine, who seemed to be well acquainted with the little baker, presented Sera to him. Mr. Mansnoozie signed a polite greeting, wishing the girl a happy birthday, while Katherine translated his gestures for her friend.

Kozmotis opted to silently exit the kitchen.

Oh how he wanted for all of this to end already.

*I*I*

The party had ended quite late (to him, anytime past 11 at night was outrageously late for a children's party to end). Seraphine and he were both exhausted and ended up falling asleep in his room, without putting any more effort into trying to dress into their pajamas than was absolutely necessary. Why not just sleep and worry about it all later?

The following day was Sunday, thus they had nothing to worry about. He had also promised not to work on that day.

They spent the morning at home and in the afternoon they went to the movies. It had been months since he had been so relaxed.

Monday morning returned them to their regular schedule. Seraphine went to school and Kozmotis went to work. A couple of busy days  
followed and he spent more time at the office than usual.

By Thursday, he was a bit more free again. The little work-storm had passed.

That's when he remembered the golden card.

He was leaving the publisher's quarters when the little thing accidentally fell from his wallet. He took it between his long fingers, examining it closer. The detail on the back was delicate and refined. The gold ink shined with the card's every movement.

_Maybe I could get Sera some kind of dessert._ He read the address again and stuck the card into his coat pocket. After all, they did owe him a free one.

The bakery was rather close by. He could get there on foot and avoid the need for a taxi or bus.

Fifteen minutes later, he entered the little shop. It was almost empty.

The moment he set foot inside, he was taken aback by the impression of innocence and brightness that the whole environment created. He hadn't had the time before to marvel at the serene and warm atmosphere of the bakery. The walls were a light yellow with little gold and white details painted on the elegantly carved reliefs that ran, like a border, along their top portions. It looked very much like the designs on their business cards. The display cabinets were a creamy yellow with gold accents. A couple of mobiles with small golden sea creatures hung from the ceiling, twirling gently.

For a moment he just stood there taking it all in. The day he had gone with his daughter to the bakery, it had been so crowded and he had been so impatient that any details as to the decorative interior of the little shop had been entirely overlooked.

A hand on his arm pulled him back to the present.

The little baker was smiling up at him and pointing to the mobiles. He gave a knowing grin and raised his eyebrows at Kozmotis.

The man swallowed a quiet yelp at being caught staring at the ceiling like an idiot. Before he could say anything, however, the other man pulled a card from his pocket. Showing it to Kozmotis, he then pointed to the cabinets.

"Oh yes, yes. I'm here for that." The baker smiled again. "Ah, sorry. How rude of me. I haven't even said Hi." He felt slightly flustered. "Uh...Hi."

Mansnoozie seemed to laugh silently and dismissed the apology with the wave of his hand. He walked to the cabinets and tilted his head, inviting Kozmotis to follow. When he did, the baker disappeared into the back and returned shortly after with a pen and some paper.

_"This way should be easier. How did the party go?"_ The man's eyes grew larger as he read the note.

"Uh...fine. Excellent! Thank you..." The baker smiled and wrote again.

_"You have a lovely daughter. Katherine told me the party lasted almost till midnight. Both of you must have been exhausted!"_

He chuckled a little, remembering the state both he and Sera were in at the end of the night. "Yes, children's events can get quite wild."

_"Don't I know it."_

"Have any children yourself?" He couldn't picture the little baker with kids.

_"No, but maybe someday. You are here to retrieve your gift, right?"_ Kozmotis nodded. _"What would you like?"_

Kozmotis shrugged.

"I don't know. What would you recommend?" He took a look at the pastries and cakes. "I...I've never really liked sweets at all..."

Mansnoozie looked surprised. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped a bit. He then scribbled furiously.

_"How could you?!"_

Kozmotis couldn't help but laugh at the little man's mocked expression of offence. He shrugged the question off.

"My daughter, on the other hand, loves them. It is quite worrying." He took his gold card out of his coat pocket. "But, here I am."

The other man took the card, looked at it and then gave it back. He grabbed his pen again.

_"More like she's quite intelligent. I recommend the Tiramisu mousse. Maybe you'll like it too."_

He couldn't help but tease the man a little. "We'll see about that."

Mansnoozie pouted, his expression clearly saying _Oh really?_

He smiled amused by this strange little guy. "Fine then. Give me that one."

Mansnoozie set to work getting two of the pastries wrapped and ready quickly. Smiling, he handed the package to Kozmotis.

"Thank you." He smiled back. "Guess I'll get going then, uh..." Kozmotis hesitated for a few seconds, unsure if he should apologize  
for earlier. He was feeling a little awkward all of a sudden. "Yes, thank you again. Good afternoon."

The little man waved goodbye to him and returned to the back of the shop.

Once he had exited the bakery, Kozmotis noticed a little note written on the envelope of the package. A warm smile won its way to his lips.

_Hope your daughter likes it enough_  
_to make you come back again._  
_Or maybe you'll stop by on your own?_

_Please tell her I send my greetings,_  
_ Sanderson Mansnoozie._

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I was heavily influenced by another fic here (which I love and it's great) in which Sandy is mute, so I decided it would be... interesting to write that. Sorry this is going slow :S

As always, it would be great to hear something from you.

And thanks again to lovely Mysteria388 for the much needed help at proofreading and fixing this! Thank you!


	4. You can't eat sweets three times a week

He kept the note to himself.

Seraphine ran from the garden to receive him. She threw her arms about him and spoke in a rush about her day at school. The surprise dessert was met with an incredible amount of enthusiasm followed by an entire afternoon of endless chatter about the baker.

Katherine's family was well acquainted with the little man and so he had given her a bag of cookies to share at school which, in turn, led him to be the children's topic of discussion for the day.

It looked as though the fellow had really made an impression on Seraphine.

"Dear, you have been talking about the little baker since I first arrived." Kozmotis hadn't touched the pastry. Instead, he sipped a cup of black coffee while Sera devoured hers. Both of them were sitting at the small dinner table in the kitchen.

"That's because he's really nice!" Seraphine said between bites of her father's Tiramisu. "Dad, do you think I could be a baker one day?"

Kozmotis couldn't help but laugh at the innocent question. Seraphine glared at him.

"I mean it, Dad!" her small fist got him in the arm.

"What?" He snickered. Sera crossed her arms as she gave him a serious look. "Fine, fine. I'm sorry." He touched her shoulder. "You can be whatever you want to be, darling."

"You may say that, but the truth is you don't like cakes or bakers." she pouted looking hurt. Kozmotis sighed and put on a serious business face.

"My sweet darling," he got up from his chair and went to serve himself some more coffee, "If you were a baker, you would be my favorite baker. I would gladly eat anything you baked."

Seraphine didn't look convinced. "But you still wouldn't like anything I baked, because you don't like sweets."

Kozmotis rolled his eyes. "Darling, you don't like potato soup, but I still love you anyway."

"That's not fair!" Sera exclaimed, "You make me eat it anyway!"

Kozmotis sighed and smiled, "Sera, what do you want me to do to prove my point? I would be happy if you were a baker."

Seraphine pouted then began to look thoughtful. Suddenly she pushed what remained of the second half-eaten Tiramisu in front of him.

"You could at least try it" she told him looking very serious, "If I'm going to be a baker, you'll have to like sweets at least a little to taste my cakes. If I can eat potato soup, then you can eat sweets."

"Potato soup is nutritious. Can't you ask your friends to taste your cakes for you?"

"No." Sera scowled at him. A few moments passed in silence as a silent battle of wills waged between father and daughter. In the end, Kozmotis could do nothing but look up and sigh, resigning himself to his fate.

"...Fine. Give me your spoon." Sera had won and he readied himself to taste the dessert. He took just a small bite, swallowed it down and returned the confection back to the girl.

"See?" he offered her a weak smile, "Delicious!"

Sera kept looking at him skeptically and pushed the treat back towards him again. "Aren't you going to eat it all?"

Kozmotis rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to admit the Tiramisu wasn't that bad. It was indeed sweet, but not overly so.

"You are such a spoiled child." he muttered as he reached for the spoon again.

*I*I*

Seraphine kept talking about the baker that whole week and by Friday she had managed to get her dad to go back to the bakery for yet another sweet treat for his little girl. She continued to beg and plead and on Monday and that following Thursday, Kozmotis returned home with packages from the Star Bakery.

"I can't keep going every week to that damned bakery!" Kozmotis tiredly put his foot down one Saturday night. He was sitting in their house's little study, reading and making annotations for one of their new authors' manuscript. Sera had been insisting the whole afternoon that he should go and buy her a cake.

"Dad, you cursed!" Seraphine's jaw dropped as she stared at him in surprise.

_Oh, for goodness sake!_ Kozmotis was getting tired of all the sweets, cakes and pastries filling his house. "Darling, I'm quite stressed right now and this is getting out of control. You can't keep eating sweets three times a week!"

"Ok, Dad..." she replied softly, "Nothing from the bakery today." Kozmotis sighed in relief and proceeded to continue with his work. Several minutes passed uninterrupted before Sera's hopeful face popped up startling him.

"But we can go next Monday, right?"

Kozmotis closed his eyes accepting the cruel joke that was his destiny.

*I*I*

And so, Kozmotis Pitchiner became a regular at Sanderson Mansnoozie's Star Bakery. All thanks to Seraphine, who kept finding ways to trick him into buying her sweets. He was beginning to worry about how manipulative she was turning out to be.

He tried to fight back, keeping his visits to just once or twice a week. He also tried buying other things too: bagels, rolls, croissants, onion bread...but every week he ended up taking home at least a tart, a cake or a mousse.

The situation became such that Sera started calling the baker simply by "Sandy". _Could you tell Sandy that this dessert was great?_ became a common request in their little house.

Sometimes Sera went with him to the bakery, which didn't help at all with any plan he had of trying to end the weekly sweet-buying. She would try to stay as long as she could with the baker, asking him a lot of questions about the man's trade.

As his visits became a regular weekly thing, he too began to talk more and more with the little baker. It happened quite unexpectedly but given the man's warm and friendly personality, Kozmotis also began to address him by his name (_Sanderson_) every now and then.

If one asked him, Kozmotis would have to admit that he enjoyed the man's company and good sense of humor. He still had to write in order to communicate with Kozmotis and given the amount of time they spent together, their little chats were more or less the same. They talked about mundane things: the art of baking a perfect mousse (Seraphine would need to know such things if she wanted to be a baker someday), of Kozmotis' work as an editor, of Sanderson's strange fondness for the golden sea creatures in his shop. They chatted about their day, about kids and old or new authors. They even chatted about the strange little storm that had trapped Kozmotis at the bakery a few days ago.

Three months passed like this and every once in a while, a little note with gold ink appeared inside the package of that week's purchase.

_"Hope you try the cinnamon rolls next time."_

_"Better hide half of this tart from Seraphine. (It's quite big!)"_

_"You aren't really tasting these sweets, are you?"_

Kozmotis saved every single note carefully folding them between the pages of the books in his personal library. After a while he forgot all about most of them, but some he remembered all week long. Whenever he had some free time, he would look for his favorites which he hid in his most consulted books. They always made him smile and filled him with a strange fondness for the baker.

He hadn't really thought about why he had taken on such a strange habit of keeping the notes and since his life was so busy, he really couldn't be concerned with the answer. He merely did so on a whim and enjoyed them when he could.

Until, one day, Florence came into his office to give him back one of his books she had borrowed. A strange smile adorned her face as she handed him back the worn edition of _Crime and Punishment_. He arched a brow at her in confusion.

"Is anything wrong?" he asked before returning his gaze to the many papers he had been revising.

"Oh just you know..." she grinned cheekily, "I didn't know you were seeing someone."

Kozmotis stopped what he was doing and looked back at her in astonishment. "What?"

"Oh please!" she rolled her eyes and pointed to the book, "That little love note there gives it away."

He continued to stare at her not having a clue as to what she was talking about. He opened the book. There, slipped in the inside cover, was one of Sanderson's golden inked notes. His clear smooth calligraphy almost gave life to the letters:

_"I made this one especially for you._

_I keep thinking you are very similar to it:_

_Just the precise amount of sweet_

_to ease the dark chocolate's strong taste._

_May I hope that you will at least taste this one?_

_-SM"_

He read the note over again a second time feeling a warm blush rise into his cheeks. He had never thought about the notes (or Sanderson) that way before. In the back of his mind a little voice reminded him that it did make sense now why Florence would come to such a conclusion.

"No, no! What are you saying? This is from...from..." He was about to say the note was from the baker a couple streets down, but the words sounded too strange even to him. What was he doing hiding little notes from a baker in his books?

Florence didn't give him the chance to continue his explanation. (Thank goodness she did not!)

"It's okay, Boss. I'm not interrogating you" she headed with ease towards the door, "I just hope you will introduce us one day! I'll head back to my office now".

Once she had left and the door was firmly closed, he released the long breath he had been holding. His shoulders relaxed as he did so and Kozmotis took the little note in his trembling hands.

_Me and the baker?_ He tried to chuckle at the idea but found he couldn't calm his quickly beating heart. Suddenly, he began to search for all the rest of the notes hidden inside the books in his office. He had a few more of them at home, but these were the troublesome ones he didn't want others to find on accident again.

Ten minutes later he had collected all the stray notes. He read them all over again, trying to see for himself what Florence had been implying.

Breathing slowly he asked himself a couple of questions: What were all these notes really about? Wasn't it normal for a baker to give his customers little notes of appreciation now and then? (Surely that couldn't be considered strange or odd behavior?) Was he the odd one for keeping them all and storing them in his books? Why was he saving them?

And then he thought about the most important questions by far: Was the little baker aware that his notes might be misinterpreted as having a deeper meaning or...was that the man's intention all along? Were they meant to be innocent...or not?

He had never thought about it before, but maybe this was common behavior for the baker. Maybe he left notes like this for all his clients.

Feeling a strange tug in his chest, Kozmotis took the notes and put them in one of his desk drawers. Frowning, he locked the drawer and put away the key. He was sure that this sudden action was even weirder than just keeping the notes scattered in books, but at least no one would be able to find them now.

As for the thoughts still running through his mind, questions like _What now?_ and _Why am I still so upset over this?_, he decided there was only one thing to do about them. He would go to the bakery and find out.

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I really wish to thank my awesome beta, Mysteria388, for fixing this wonderfully and for being such an awesome help and moving force. This would be such a failure without him, really. Thank you!

And of course thanks to your comments! I'm a little slow with the system and since it didn't tell me to which ones I had replied… so I'm sorry. I read them (how couldn't I!?) and they help to keep this going too. Thank you again!


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